Sherlock and the Kitten Kaper
by Vroomfondel
Summary: A Christmas story where Sherlock's boredom gets relieved by a box of kittens.  My sorta take on The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle.
1. Chapter 1

I just revised this a bit and cleaned up some of my grammatical and spelling errors. Enjoy! Please R&R! :-D

Sherlock and Kitten Kaper

Pairing: Sherlock/John, pre-slash

Rating: PG

Part: 1 of ?

Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlocks.

Secret Santa gift for the lovely Zoe, aka gryffindor-consulting-detective.

John sat in his usual chair reading by the fireplace, a fire roaring merrily away. He was wearing a white and red striped Christmas jumper taken from his seemingly endless collection. Sherlock hated the jumpers, saying they distracted him from his "brainwork", but despite his best efforts to find and eradicate said collection; he had been unable to. John was secretly very proud of this.

However, the jumpers were just a small speck in the pile of things currently annoying Sherlock. They had been without a case for a few weeks. Apparently, the criminals were sharing in the holiday spirit this year and not out committing crimes; much to Sherlock's and his fellow residents in 221B's dismay. Sherlock was now taking out his anger for lack of work on Christmas, itself.

The Christmas tree that John had bought had lasted approximately one evening, before Sherlock devised a chemical that burned off all the needles of the tree, leaving just the trunk and branches intact. The stockings had been hurled into the fireplace, along with most other of the decorations. The eggnog sat in the fridge seemingly innocent. But John knew Sherlock well enough to give that up for lost as well. However, John was a soldier and he knew how to wage war. He wasn't giving up on Christmas just yet.

Just as John was thinking about what he could possibly give to Sherlock that wouldn't be hurled back in his face, he heard a shuffling sound came from the hallway. Then Mrs. Hudson yelled, "Yoo hoo! Sherlock! John! Would someone be so kind as to get the door for me?" John flipped down his paper to look at Sherlock, who acted as if he hadn't heard her. He sat perched on the edge of his chair in front of the couch. As best as John could make out he seemed to be having a staring contest with the smiley face on the wall.

John rolled his eyes and yelled back, "Coming Mrs. Hudson." He winced as he stood, psychosomatic or not, his bad leg still twinged in the colder parts in December. He pulled open the door to reveal a very large cardboard box barely being held up by Mrs. Hudson. Instinctively, he grabbed the box and brought it in, and only when he set it down on top of the coffee table did he hear the small mewing and scrabbling sounds coming from inside. "What the? Did you bring us kittens?" He opened the box staring at the contents. "Why did you bring us kittens?"

"I found them in an alleyway. Someone just dumped them! I couldn't just leave the poor dears, especially not when it's starting to snow out there. And I thought that maybe Sherlock could…..you know." She glanced nervously over at Sherlock, who still hadn't moved. "I know you, two have been having a bit of trouble recently. What with the lack of cases and all. I thought that perhaps this could keep Sherlock busy for a bit."

John was about to say something skeptical, but Mrs. Hudson looked so hopeful. So he smiled and said, "Thanks Mrs. Hudson, I'll ask him. Really anything has got to be better than nothing and I know it's better than KILLING MY CHRISTMAS TREE!" He said the last part loud enough that it scared the kittens a bit and they mewed louder. Still Sherlock remained stoically silent. Mrs. Hudson looked from one to the other worried that she was going to witness another of their domestics. "Could you perhaps get us some kitten food and I don't know a couple kitten beds or something? How many are there anyway?"

Mrs. Hudson smiled, "Nine and I'll go out and get them stuff just this once. I'm not your housekeeper."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

After she had left John turned to face Sherlock. Before he could say anything, Sherlock said with a scoff, "You want _me_ to look at a box of kittens."

"Yes, it will give something to do other than-"

"No. It won't. Kittens get dumped all the time, especially near Christmas. Someone probably bought a cat for the child as a gift, didn't realize it was pregnant and dumped the kittens so they didn't have to deal with them. From the size of the box and its location, one can presume it was a man who dumped them. Location? How do you know the location? The only alleyway Mrs. Hudson goes down is the one behind her favorite antique shop to see if they have thrown away any 'treasures.' That shop is not close to a residential district…" Sherlock continued as John grabbed one of the kittens. It was small, spotted and had particularly striking blue eyes, that reminded him of the dectective.

He walked over and stood in front of Sherlock, who was still talking rapidly and held the kitten at Sherlock's eye level. It mewed softly, looking appropriately cute. Sherlock's gaze now broken with the smiley, he blinked and checked his watch. "3 hours and 22 minutes. Beats my previous record."

John gaped. "You haven't blinked in over THREE HOURS? Sherlock you can permanently damage your vision and ugh never mind, not like you would listen anyway." He thrust the kitten closer forcing Sherlock to take it and ran into the kitchen to find something soothing for Sherlock's eyes.

"I assure you, John, my eyes are quite fine. They can take this sort of strain easy." Sherlock called out to him.

John's response was, "No they can't. Just because you want them to, doesn't mean they can. Now, tell me more about the kittens."

The kitten squirmed in Sherlock's hands. It looked up at him with big eyes and mewed. Sherlock was faintly repulsed by its cuteness; it reminded him of those calendars that Molly insisted hanging in the morgue and lab. Sherlock had absolutley no interest in continuing his quick-fire analysis about a dumped box of kittens. And in any other situation he wouldn't have, but he did actually feel bad for John. Despite all their bickering of late, Sherlock was amazed that John always came back and always genuinely cared for Sherlock. Even now with his annoying fussing over Sherlock's eyes showed that he cared. Despite the fact that not quite 6 hours ago, Sherlock had dumped out his eggnog and used the container to house a particularly rare and interesting dead beetle he had found. John was on edge and he thought perhaps this could be considered a peace offering. "Do I have to?" He asked resignedly. Nobody said he had to enjoy this wasting of his time, though.

"Yes." came the curt response from the other room.

Sherlock sighed and lifted up the kitten and began examining it from all angles. The kitten thought this was great fun and started licking the great consulting detective's fingers, while purring. When Sherlock brought the kitten up to his nose to smell it, the kitten immediately grabbed onto a lock of his hair and started chewing. Sherlock already growing bored let it clamber onto his head as he began to talk. "Well, they can't be older than 12 weeks. This one is female. I'd say they were outside about a day and a half. Unusual markings might mean they are particular breed….John? Do all the kittens have such odd and distinct markings?"

John headed from the kitchen holding a towel soaked in some warm soothing liquid, "Yes, they do." He stopped himself from bursting out in laughter at the sight of this tiny kitten trying to eat Sherlock's hair. "You have a kitten on your head, you know," he said failing to suppress a few giggles.

"Yes, thank you. I am aware." John kneeled down next to Sherlock.

"Close your eyes."

"This isn't necessary, Doctor. I'm perfectly fine."

"Sherlock, your eyes are thoroughly bloodshot and you have dust collected in your conjunctivas. Now shut them." John said giving him a look. Sherlock was a professional in ignoring such looks from everyone, but John's always seemed to stop him. Just John's eyes locked onto Sherlock's made him feel flustered; he didn't know why either which caused him further agitation. He shut his eyes and John tipped his head back and put on the towel. Then John attempted to grab the kitten from Sherlock's hair

"Owwwwww!" Sherlock whined. "Just leave her there, if she likes it so much."

"Aww Sherlock that's oddly generous of you. Getting into the Christmas spirit." John said smirking. He then walked over to look at the other kittens. They clambered over each other to get close to his hand. They were starved for any type of love. While John was petting them he noticed something around one of the kitten's neck. "Hey Sherlock, one of them has on a collar." John unsnapped the collar and studied it. "Interesting, it doesn't have any writing on it. No name or address."

"Well, obviously they would have removed that before dumping the kittens." Sherlock drawled wondering why he was even responding to such drivel.

"Yeah, but this almost looks like a bracelet. It was way too big on the kitten and anyway none of the other kittens have one on. It's gold and covered in blue gems, definitely looks like a bracelet. Maybe one of the kittens accidently stuck his head through one?"

As John spoke, Sherlock saw hundreds of flashes in his mind of newspapers, magazines, web news, blogs, TV, etc. all showing the Countess of Morcar and her stolen gold bracelet covered in rare blue diamonds. An arrest had been made, but the bracelet had yet to be recovered.  
>"No I don't think so, John." Sherlock whipped off the towel and threw it to the ground. He stood up and reached a hand out for the bracelet.<p>

His face was so serious that John began to feel hopeful for the first time in what felt like forever. Sherlock examined the bracelet, his eyes gleaming. "Get me my phone, it's next to your laptop."

As soon as John handed Sherlock the phone, Sherlock dialed Lestrade and simply said, "You have the wrong man. Tim Neilen did not steal the Countess's diamonds." He paused listening and answered Lestrade. "No, but I can find out who did." He hung up the phone. And looked at John, "Get your coat! We are headed out!"

Sherlock threw on his coat and was halfway out the door, before John stopped him. "Wait, wait! Sherlock!" He tugged roughly and Sherlock winced, but he got the kitten out of the detective's hair.

He went to put the little kitten back, but Sherlock said, "No John. We need her, bring her with us."

"Bring her? For what?"

"The case John! The case!" With that he swept out of the room.


	2. Kitten in the Kab

Sherlock and Kitten Kaper

Pairing: Sherlock/John, pre-slash

Rating: PG

Part: 2 of ?

Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlocks.

Secret Santa gift for the lovely Zoe.

Outside, it was snowing in earnest. John held the kitten close to his body to keep it warm. Nevertheless, it began to shiver and mew pitifully. "Sherlock, this kitten is freezing! Do we really need to take him?"

"Her. Take her. And yes we do. We need her breed identified. It's crucial in order to know who stole the Countess of Morcar's blue diamond bracelet." Finally a cab appeared, Sherlock hailed it.

"The Countess's jewels? But we read in the papers that the case was solved. They arrested the thief." The climbed into the cab. "And you turned down that case anyway! Said it was umm, 'mundane in the extreme' if I remember correctly."

"St. Bartholomew's Hospital." He said to the cabby. To John he responded, "And so it was. But this case has just become infinitely more interesting." The kitten mewed again. Sherlock removed his scarf while moving closer to John, taking the kitten from his hands. Sherlock then began wrapping the kitten in his scarf to help warm it up. As he did this the little kitten started to purr.

"I think she likes you, Sherlock."

"Nonsense, she just likes being warm." After Sherlock had finished, he handed the kitten back, but remained close to John. John didn't seem to notice or mind the invasion of his personal space.

"So, you think the bracelet I found, is the Countess's?"

"I am certain of it."

"So, Mrs. Hudson was right then."

"What? About what?"

"About this being something that could occupy your time?" John said keeping his tone light.

Sherlock knew when he was being teased by John and it always made him feel simultaneously annoyed and grateful. Grateful because no one had every treated Sherlock normally, even just for a second. As he grew up the teasing had been merciless and seemingly without end, even in University. And John, despite all of his praise, could still manage to treat Sherlock like a "normal bloke." Giving him a jibe here and there, but only with the most benign of intentions.

"She wasn't right for the reasons she thought she was. She unwittingly stumbeled upon something big." John chuckled softly.

"I think she was just afraid you would start shooting holes in her walls again." Sherlock smiled and they spent the rest of the ride in amiably silence.


	3. Expert Opinion

Thanks do much for the reviews and for reading! This is my first fanfic and I appreciate the feedback! Keep the reviews coming! 3

Sherlock and Kitten Kaper

Pairing: Sherlock/John, pre-slash

Rating: PG

Part: 3 of ?

Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlocks.

Secret Santa gift for the lovely Zoe, aka gryffindor-consulting-detective.

As they walked through St. Bart's, John felt the kitten wriggling around trying to get free. He unwrapped her from the scarf, draping it over his shoulder. She was so tiny that he had a hard time keeping a firm grip for fear of crushing her. "Seriously Sherlock, couldn't we have just -I don't know- brought in some hairs or something that you could look at under the microscope and not the enitre bloody kitten?" The newly freed kitten decided to do some exploring, starting with John's striped jumper. She latched on and began climbing up the thick, fuzzy wool.

Sherlock gave him the patented and annoying _isn't it obvious_ face. "I'm not the one who will be doing the analyzing. Cat breeds aren't really my area. No, no we brought this kitten to ensure she will help us. She can't resist a kitten."

"Who can't?" As if on cue, Molly walked around the corner and beamed brightly at them.

"I got your text. Where is she then?" Molly asked excitedly. Sherlock turned to John to get the kitten, who was clambering up John's left side. The scarf fell off John's shoulder as he moved his arms to try and detach her. Sherlock picked it up and without thinking wrapped it around John's neck, just as he normally would for himself. John froze unsure of what to make of this rather intimate gesture. Sherlock was thrown by his own actions as well, causing him to pause, his hands on John's shoulders. John blushed so slightly that Sherlock could only make it out due to their close proximity. Sherlock's action had been on impulse, but _why _did he have such an impulse? And why had doing such a strange act not felt strange at all, but sort of nice? Sherlock also noted with dismay that his own heartbeat had increased. He assumed it must have been caused by the excitement of a new case, but felt characteristically unsure about that.

Behind them, Molly cleared her throat and in one swift motion Sherlock yanked the kitten off the jumper and spun back 'round causing his coat to swish dramatically out and into John's face. He batted it away.

Molly's eyes grew wide as she held the kitten, "Oh, she is so adorable, Sherlock!" She cried. As they walked to the lab, Molly continued to coo over the kitten. "She is just the cutest! Aren't you? Yes, you are. You know you are, don't ya? What sort of person would just dump you in the street with all your brothers and sisters? They should kill the sick bastard who did that. Yes they should! They should skin him alive." Sherlock and John looked at her somewhat concerned. She giggled self-consciously. "It's just horrible, ya know? How someone could do something like that."

Sherlock opened his mouth to retort that Molly dealt with the aftermath of the horrible things people did every day, but John, who had become rather proficient in anticipating Sherlock's reactions, nudged him shaking his head. "Let's keep focused, Sherlock." He whispered.

They entered the morgue. The kitten blinked its big blue eyes in the bright light, then mewed pitifully.

"We need to know her breed-" Sherlock started.

"When did she last eat?"

"I don't know, probably sometime within the last 72 hours."

"What? Sherlock, she's a baby! She needs to eat!"

"Yes, well Molly we just need-"

"She is practically starving! Did the silly detectives not give you anything to eat? Huh? Were they being big meanies?" She asked the cat. It mewed again sounding even more distressed as if condemning John and Sherlock's actions. To them she said, "You're lucky I am prepared for just such an occasion." She held the kitten in one hand and while the other opened one of the many metal cabinets in the room. Instead of the dissection equipment that Sherlock and John were expecting to see, she pulled out a cat bed, a few toys, food and even some kitten formula. She placed a small pink bed on the floor and put the kitten in it.

"Do you keep a cat in here?" John asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes. Molly laughed, "No, sometimes a body comes in with a friend. Cats, dogs, and even a hedgehog once that don't want to leave their master's side. EMTs don't always know what to do especially if the animals become violent when someone tries to move them. So they just leave the animal alone and wheel them all in here; I keep this stuff here just in case. As she talked she had prepared the formula and was now heating it. The kitten sat in her bed watching attentively.

"Fascinating Molly." Sherlock drawled. "No would you please tell us the breed?' Molly tested the milk temperature on her arm. She put down the milk and the kitten immediately went to it sticking her front paws in the shallow bowl and burying her little face in the white liquid. She began to lap it up with a feverish intensity. "Awwwww" Molly sighed.

"Molly" Sherlock warned.

"Right, well you were right she can't be more than twelve weeks and she definitely looks like a purebred. Her markings are gorgeous, deliberate. I want to say Bengal, but... Something is off. The face isn't quite right. Hmmmmm. I know I've seen this breed somewhere before. Recently too." She walked over to a drawer and pulled out ten to twenty cat magazines like _Your Cat_, _Cat World_, and _Total Cat_. She noted the stares at her collection and self consciously said, "Just something to read while on my break."

John graciously said, "Well, that's why Sherlock brought us here, he said we needed an expert."

"Did he really call me an expert?" She looked delighted by the thought.

John's reply of "Nearly did." was lost to Sherlock talking over him. "Molly we really are on a tight time schedule. The breed."

"Right." Sitting down, Molly spread the magazines out on the counter and began to page through them. The minutes ticked by and Sherlock rapidly grew more and more impatient. He interrupted her every few minutes or so asking if she was done. He leaned over her shoulder, making his own comments on breeds or chastising her when he thought she was straying from the task at hand. She blushed with embarrassment each time and apologized, growing more and more nervous.

John walked over to where Sherlock had started pacing. "Sherlock," he said quietly. "Why don't you go to the vending machine and buy us some nibbles."

"Not hungry" came the terse reply. He continued to pace.

"You aren't, but we are."

"Then go yourself."

John stepped into Sherlock's path causing him to abruptly stop. Still keeping his voice down, "Sherlock all your bugging and pacing is putting her on edge. Now go to the vending machine and get us snacks."

"But John-"

"Sherlock just do it. I promise she will find out what breed it is a lot faster when you aren't here to harass her every few seconds."

"I wasn't harassing, I was helping."

"No you weren't."

"The vending machine is at the end of the hall, approximately 32 steps at my gate. I will only be gone a minute, two at most."

"Then find the vending machine that is furthest away and use that one." Sherlock looked put out. "Really, Sherlock. She needs some space."

"Fine" Sherlock acquiesced. "What shall I get us then?"

"Surprise me." John smiled.


	4. Kitten Identification

I'll try to have a longer chapter up soon, but I figured I would post this for now! Thanks for all the comments and please keep them coming!

Sherlock and Kitten Kaper

Pairing: Sherlock/John, pre-slash

Rating: PG

Part: 4 of ?

Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlocks.

Secret Santa gift for the lovely Zoe, aka gryffindor-consulting-detective.

* * *

><p>John watched Sherlock leave still smiling until he noticed that Molly was staring at him. "You're the only person he ever listens to."<p>

"Ha, that's cause I'm the only one who knows where his cigarettes are."

"No, no he really listens to you. I mean he hears what we all say, even me. But he rarely listens. I know I've tried for ages to-" she stopped abruptly. John looked slightly uncomfortable. "But you, you don't even have to try." John unsure of how to respond remained silent.

Suddenly Molly jumped up, "Hey! I think, I think this is it." She moved closer to the kitten, who having licked the bowl clean was currently sleeping in it. She studied the kitten and then looked back at the issue of _Cat World_. "Aha! I knew you weren't a Bengal!" She beckoned to John to come closer and showed him the magazine. "See, she is a Serengeti cat! They are a fairly new breed. Let's see they became an official one in 1994. They are a cross between a Bengal and an Oriental Shorthair to create a cat that looks like a Serval."

"A whataval?" John asked.

"A Serval. An African wildcat." She said as if that explained it.

"And why do they want to breed two other cats to get a different one. Why not just breed a- a - an African one too?"

She gave him a look akin to Sherlock's_ isn't it obvious _face. "Because the gene pool is so much larger for these two breeds and the temperament of domestic breeds is so much better than wild ones, not to mention the difficulty capturing Servals and somehow crossing them with house cats."

"Ah, right." John nodded still confused.

At that moment Sherlock entered though John was unsure if Sherlock had ever really left judging by his lack of snacks and that his first sentence was "And are they an expensive breed?"

"Says here kittens are sold for some 500 quid a piece."

"Really?" John looked down at the sleeping kitten in disbelief. "Wow."

Sherlock smiled at Molly, "Thank you, Molly! You've done excellently!"

"Did I?" Molly smiled back shyly.

"Yes, you were brilliant." Molly looked as though she wanted to say something else, but Sherlock held up a hand stopping her. " And now we must be off! John grab the kitten."

"Oh, so soon? Where are you going?" Molly asked with a slight pout.

However, Sherlock was already out of the door before Molly could finish her question. John gave her a sympathetic smile then hurried after, re-wrapping the kitten to protect her from the cold of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Love all the comments! I have not forgotten this story and have been meaning to update it. My computer has had many issues making it difficult to update. Just to remind you guys (and myself) this story is taking place around December 21st. I love writing this and please keep the reviews coming! Enjoy!

Sherlock and Kitten Kaper

Pairing: Sherlock/John, pre-slash

Rating: PG

Part: 5 of ?

Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlocks.

Secret Santa gift for the lovely Zoe, aka gryffindor-consulting-detective.

Outside the hospital the snow had stopped, but the wind whipping around their faces carried with it a biting chill. Thankfully for them and the kitten, a cab soon appeared.

John opened the door letting Sherlock in first. "Where to?" the cabbie asked.

"221 B Baker-"

"Actually, we are headed to 531 Goodge Street." Sherlock interrupted. The cabbie waited a moment looking at John, who nodded his assent, before driving off.

"Why are we going to Goodge Street, Sherlock?"

"I need to consult with certain members in my homeless network." Sherlock explained.

"What now? Sherlock it's late and freezing out! Plus we have a kitten. How are you going to find anyone out and about at this hour?"

"531 Goodge has been abandoned for over five years. The company that owned the property has since gone under as well. Meaning that even the most basic security measures have long since lapsed. Making it a perfect location for people who are trying to escape the cold. And it just so happens to be on the street adjacent to Mrs. Hudson's antique shop." Sherlock explained. After a few more minutes, the cab pulled up in front of a rather grim-looking warehouse. Sherlock quickly jumped out.

"Do you want me to – ow! It bit me, Sherlock!" John moved his hand and Sherlock saw that the little kitten had, in fact, sunk her teeth into John's thumb.

"_She_. She bit you." He helped John out by gently tugging the kitten off of him. "And yet she is still purring, fascinating." He shook his head, bringing back his focus. "Anyway, to answer your question, no you can wait here. This won't take long and it's no place to bring a kitten."

John waited in the cab with the kitten for a good twenty minutes listening to the cabbie argue on his mobile with his significant other over which relatives to spend Christmas with. This again brought John's mind back to his own Christmas ideas and the dilemma that was Sherlock's present. What could he possibly get the eccentric detective? The kitten, done in from a very long day, fell fast asleep.

When Sherlock came back to the cab, he refused to answer any of John's questions. Choosing instead to stare out the window lost in his own deductions. But John could tell by the ghost of a smirk on Sherlock's lips that things had gone well.

When John and Sherlock finally arrived home they found Mrs. Hudson sitting on their couch with three of the kittens in her lap. She was petting them and making soft cooing noises. The rest of the litter was safely ensconced in a little pen that she had bought them. They lay curled up together on a fluffy white bed surrounded by bowls of milk, water, and food. Furry mice lay scattered about the floor and a litter box sat in the corner.

She started almost guilty at the boys' entrance. Looking up at them she said, "Oh hello, I hope you don't mind that I stayed? I just wasn't sure how long you would be gone and I didn't want to leave the poor dears all alone."

"That's quite all right, Mrs. Hudson. Thank you for setting all of this up for us."

"Oh, it wasn't any trouble. You boys just make sure they have food, water, and clean litter." John nodded as he unwrapped the other kitten from the scarf and placed her in the bed with her siblings. Through this process she remained fast asleep.

Sherlock had wandered over to his desk. Sitting with fingers steepled he spoke for the first time since coming back to the cab, "John, do we have the papers for the last week or so?"

"Yeah, we should. Hold on." John walked into the kitchen to rifle through the recycling.

Mrs. Hudson put the kittens back. "Well, I'll leave you boys to it then. Enjoy your case, Sherlock." She said, eyes twinkling.

"I believe I have you to thank for this one."

Mrs. Hudson waved her hand dismissively, "Oh, just think of it as an early Christmas present."

Sherlock rewarded her with a rare, genuine smile. "Happy Christmas."


	6. Kitten Interlude

I know my updates are slow, much slower than I would wish them to be. However, thanks to everyone for all the great feedback! It honestly means SO MUCH to me! Please keep R&R'ing! LOVE! This little chapter is mostly from the kitten's perspective. I chose this breed of cat because of their very high curiosity, intelligence, and talkativeness. They love their owners and want to help them in whatever they do. I think this would be a good cat for Sherlock and John to own.

Sherlock and Kitten Kaper

Pairing: Sherlock/John, pre-slash

Rating: PG

Part: 6 of ?

Disclaimer: I own none of the Sherlocks.

Secret Santa gift for the lovely Zoe, aka gryffindor-consulting-detective.

"What can I do?" John asked after he set the papers next to Sherlock.

"At the moment? Nothing. But in the morning, I need you to go to Scotland Yard and get a list of all the people that visited the Countess's rooms." John nodded, leaving Sherlock to his work.

Sometime during the night, the little kitten awoke bereft of her scarf. It wasn't just the warmth that it had provided; she had her brothers and sisters for that. It was the sense of security it gave her. She sat in the middle of the pen and began mewing as loudly as she was able. Had John or Mrs. Hudson been awake they would have instinctively gone over to the kitten and attempted to calm her. As it happened, only Sherlock was up and he was otherwise engaged.

The kitten soon realized she was without a sympathetic audience. Instead of giving up and curling back to sleep with her brethren, she went about plotting her escape. Walking around the pen, she soon found a gap just wide enough to fit through, but it was too high up. Fortunately, her siblings were curled up together in a bed just beneath it. So she clambered on top of them, listening to a few complaining albeit very sleepy meows, until she was high enough to pull herself up and through. She landed with a soft thud on the other side.

She looked back at her siblings, who were still curled up asleep. She couldn't understand how they could be so boring when there were so many adventures to be had. The first of which involved finding her scarf.

The kitten wandered around the flat avoiding areas with the more caustic odors. She soon saw the man with the curly hair lying prone on the sofa. She had liked chewing his hair and looking at it now decided she would much like chewing it again. Her scarf could wait.

With his mind on a case, Sherlock could block most anything. So he did not notice the kitten till it had clambered up the sofa, walked across his face, and sat on his forehead contently chewing on his hair.

Sherlock's concentration finally broke when a fuzzy tail fell in his eye. Sherlock blinked and immediately grabbed his phone texting John.

Come down. Kitten situation. - SH

The second he sent it, he heard a buzz on the coffee table. He groaned. So John had left his phone downstairs, again. Sherlock sighed and picked up the kitten giving it one of his best put-out looks. The kitten purred oblivious while Sherlock walked over and set her back in the pen.

Once the kitten was placed back in the pen, she turned around and began to mew again. Sherlock looked at her. Idly, he thought of rousing John. John might know what she wanted. He was good at taking care of things. However, he was still trying to keep the good-will between them and knew from experience that John did not take kindly to being woken in the middle of the night for anything less than a case. So he went back to the couch, assuming the kitten would eventually stop. The kitten had other ideas.

John awoke and came downstairs to a bizarre sight. Sherlock was on the couch contorted in an odder position than usual. Closer inspection revealed the reason for this was so the detective could surf the web from the laptop on the end of the sofa while lying down, but not lying on top of the tiny kitten that was curled up next to him, which he was idly petting.

John walked over, raising his eyebrows as if to say, "New friend?"

Sherlock rolled his and looked down at the kitten, "It was the only way I could stop her incessant meowing and her constant escaping from her pen with the express purpose to distract me."

John laughed, "Wait, you couldn't stop a kitten escaping from a pen that was built to hold them?"

Sherlock gave him a dark look, "I don't know how she does it. Four times! I patched up every gap, removed obstacles she could climb on…." Sherlock faded out looking frustrated. "Well, in any event I found she does nothing objectionable if I let her stay here with me, oh and if I pet her as well."

"Okay, Sherlock. Just don't get too attached to the evidence now." John teased.

Sherlock glared, "I'm not! She was the one clambering all over me! Anyway, aren't you going to Lestrade's?"

John grabbed his jacket, "Yup, just leaving." John took one last look at the detective and the kitten before heading on his way.


End file.
